Spider's Web
by LostInColour
Summary: AU. A missing scene from book six. Not canon because there is a new HoM teacher, and is assuming that Hermione and others took HoM for NEWT. In their lesson, Professor McKenne explores theories about the divide between the magical community within and wit


Spider's Web

AU. A missing scene from book six. Not canon because there is a new HoM teacher, and is assuming that Hermione and others took HoM for NEWT. In their lesson, Professor McKenne explores theories about the divide between the magical community within and without of Hogwarts.

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Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.

Spider's Web

by LostInColour

* * *

"There's a new History of Magic professor."

Ron and Harry looked up from their breakfast to Hermione, who had just arrived and was in the motion of swinging one leg over the bench, to the staff table, where indeed there was another new member of staff. She appeared to be observing the hall through a fringe of dark hair that fell into her eyes, twirling a piece of bacon around on her fork. The rest of her hair was long, past her shoulders, and curled faintly. She momentarily caught their eyes – they dropped their gaze quickly – but her expression did not change. Then Professor Sprout said something to her, and she looked across, putting her fork back on her plate as she did so.

The trio exchanged glances. "Glad I'm not taking it," said Ron, stretching his arms above and behind him, and giving a satisfied grunt as his back clicked into place. Harry nodded in agreement as he took another mouthful of his cereal. Hermione, typically, sighed at them both and pulled a plate of tomatoes towards her.

"Honestly, you two are so immature. She could be really interesting, and you wouldn't care because of how Binns taught the class."

"She's watching us again," muttered Harry at them, keeping his eyes on his bowl. Hermione stared at him.

"Why do you _care_ if she's looking at us or not?" she asked wildly. "What difference can it make? She can't possibly hear _us_ from _there_ through _this_."

"No," said Harry carefully, "but something about her…" He trailed off, not quite sure how to finish. Hermione was still staring at him, but now it was over the top of Ron's head as he dived below the table to retrieve his fork

* * *

The class filed into the dingy, dusty room. Obviously, Professor McKenne had yet to have the time for a good clean out. The class wasn't big – not that anyone expected it to be – consisting of just Hermione, Padma Patil, Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan and a couple of Slytherins whom Hermione didn't know. Accordingly, they were all spread out a fair bit around the room built for a class of ten to fifteen.

McKenne was standing at then front of the classroom, behind the desk that Binns had never, in anyone's memory, used. The desks and the blackboard were probably the only thing in the entire room to be free from dust. Well, almost free. With every movement across the floor, dust was stirred and it dancing around in the sunbeams before drifting back to settle once more. When the whole class was settled, she spoke in her brisk, clear manner.

"Please raise your hand if you have any knowledge of Muggle society and history." Hermione, Terry and Ernie raised their hands. The other half of the class remained silent. "Now, please lower your hand if you don't know what I mean by the term _racism_." No hands went down. "Lower your hand if you don't know what I mean when I say White Superior." Ernie's hand went down. McKenne cast her eye over her small, opted class. "The question I have for you two, then," she looked carefully at them, gauging their reactions, "is, if a black man is racist, is it okay?"

Hermione spoke out. "No." McKenne raised an eyebrow.

"What if it's a white man's racism that has made him like that? Is it okay _then_?"

"No." This was Terry. "It's never okay to be racist."

McKenne's hand came down on the desk with a thud, making them all jump. "Exactly." She moved out from behind the desk, and leant upon the rail that separated the dais from the classroom. "Why are you – as in everyone but you two, Fletch and Blythe –" (these were the Slytherins) "racist towards Slytherins?"

"We're not _racist_," stormed Ernie. "We're just –" McKenne's hand came down again, this time as a fist. She pointed at Ernie.

"Racism is prejudice from fear from ignorance," she said, in her carefully controlled tones that had anger flowing out of the seams. Ernie shrank back from her slightly. "Or do you have a differing opinion, Miss Granger?"

"N-no," stuttered Hermione, shaking her head. "But, we're – we're not _racist_ towards them."

"Why, then, are you so stereotypical of them? Why do you insist that, because of their House and their ancestry, they must all be evil, conniving bastards?"

"They started it." Padma Patil, sounding childish and petulant with her first contribution of the day. McKenne watched her for a moment, then turned her gaze on Blythe.

"Blythe," she barked, "why do you behave such towards the other Houses?"

Blythe shifted in her seat, confused as how to answer. "Um, well, we've always been told that they're inferior because of their Blood, and because they're not in Slytherin."

McKenne nodded to Blythe, who positively sagged in relief that she had done well, and turned back to face the whole of the class. "Have none of you heard the saying: 'the bully's the victim'? That is a problem facing society today: discrimination that you have been _brought up with_. It is racism. All of you, within this magical community, are racist towards one another. And it. Must. Stop. Your homework is to mingle." She pointed to Fletch. "What does mingle mean, Fletch?"

"To integrate oneself in a positive fashion with another party; to make friends; to introduce oneself in a positive demeanour," rattled off Fletch, causing Hermione to start around in surprise. She had been under the impression that most – if not all – Slytherins were thick-head-stupid, but here was Fletch, basically reciting the dictionary Iand understanding what he had just said/I.

"Correct." Hermione turned back to the front. "Your task this week is to mingle; to _make friends_, as Fletch so rightly put it, with another party. In this case, with each other. You lot" she pointed to the half of the class that wasn't Slytherin "are to make friends with some Slytherins. And you" to Fletch and Blythe "are to make friends with the others. You can start within this class, if you like. _Fear can only be overcome by action_. Yes. Very good. Class dismissed."

They left that lesson with a lot to think about.

* * *

At dinner, Hermione, Ernie, Padma and Terry sat at their respective tables, still chewing over the assignment McKenne had given them. Having told Harry and Ron about it, Hermione was surprised and more than a little ashamed to hear their reactions. They were exactly as she had feared they wouldn't be – and it appeared that McKenne was right about the lot of them.

However, the biggest surprise came from behind Hermione as she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Blythe standing there, looking exceptionally nervous but determined.

"Can I sit here?" she asked, fingers twisting in her robes. Ron opened his mouth, about to give a rude retort when Hermione nodded, swallowed her mouthful and scooted sideways. As the rest of the hall looked on in horror, a Slytherin sat at the Gryffindor table.

Snape swooped down upon them. "Blythe!" he snapped. "Return to your table _immed_-"

"Severus." The cool, calm voice of McKenne sounded. She was standing behind the Defence professor, who had been unaware of her approach. "Blythe and Granger are conducting an assignment for me. Kindly do not interfere."

Snape breathed heavily through his nose once, twice, thrice, before striding back up to the staff table. McKenne looked at her two students, and something of a smile appeared around the corners of her mouth. Then she too turned and made her way back to the staff table.

Hermione turned back to her meal, and looked at Blythe. The other girl smiled. "Hello," she said, as if this was their first meeting. And, in a way, it was. "I'm Emily."

Hermione smiled back. "Hermione. Can I pass you the potatoes?"

_Fin_


End file.
